Sounds of a Breaking Heart
by steph84
Summary: Now that she's Mrs. Draco Malfoy, Hermione must adjust to her new life and the surprises that it carries. Sequel to Hauting Secrets.
1. Wedding Woes

The friendship that had been forged between Hermione and Draco during the planning of the wedding vanished as soon as they were married and Hermione found herself fighting for her place every time she spoke.  
  
The first argument took place not even an hour after the ceremony. During their first dance as Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, Draco broke it to Hermione that they were only going to Hogsmeade for the honeymoon, due to the fact that Lucius had gotten Draco a job at the Ministry and they wanted him to start as soon as possible.  
  
"That's fine," Hermione has replied quietly to the news, still in shock that her dream hadn't become a reality. She was Mrs. Malfoy and it broke her heart.  
  
"Well, don't sound too thrilled," Draco replied. "It's not like I want to spend five days in Hogsmeade with you, either."  
  
"It's not that," Hermione began saying but stopped short. Draco was obviously in no mood to listen to what she had to say anyway. "Never mind," she muttered, realizing that they must look pretty funny, a newlywed couple, both looking sour and depressed. The thought almost made her giggle but she fought back the urge.  
  
Halfway through the reception, reality hit Hermione hard. It wasn't just the fact that she was Mrs. Malfoy now; it was also the fact that she would never be able to marry Ron. She would hardly get to see him again, for the work that would have to be done in their new house. Hermione still marvelled at the size of the mansion that they would be living in. It was similar to Malfoy Manor, but not quite as extensive. Hermione tried to fight back her tears, but didn't succeed and wept silently. Several guests took it for tears of happiness and stopped to hug her on the way by her table.  
  
The couple left for Hogsmeade that evening, instead of two days later, as originally planned. They boarded the carriage outside Malfoy Manor and, after several moments of rice throwing for which Lucius demanded the guests clean up before leaving, the carriage set off into the sunset carrying the newlywed couple.  
  
"Don't lean on me," Draco snapped, halfway to the village.  
  
"I wasn't," Hermione snapped back. "I wouldn't even dream of touching you."  
  
"Some event our wedding night is going to be," Draco snarled, almost in a vicious way. Hermione was reminded strongly of the Draco Malfoy she knew at school and she hoped that his kindness before wasn't just an act until they were married. She may be a lot of things, but she would not back down to any guy, especially one that treated her so badly for so many years.  
  
Instead of responding with the numerous thoughts that were roaming around her head, Hermione decided to stare out the carriage at the passing scenery. She was aware of Draco fidgeting beside her and it took every ounce of her strength not to snap at him to stop.  
  
"You're breathing loudly and it's bothering me." Draco's sudden complaint sent Hermione over the edge.  
  
"You're breathing in general," she shot back, "and that's bothering me!"  
  
"Almost there!" called the driver from the front.  
  
"Great!" the two of them called back in unison. Their driver must have picked up on the sarcasm because he didn't make another comment until they reached the doors of the inn where Hermione and Draco were staying.  
  
"Thanks," Hermione said as the driver helped her out of the carriage. Looking up, she felt overwhelmed, as she had all day, at the sight of the inn. It was ancient looking but once inside, Hermione found it absolutely charming. Trying to make up for stormy waters, she asked Draco, "Isn't it quaint?"  
  
"Maybe I'll leave you here," he muttered, heading over to the clerk at the front desk.  
  
"Maybe I'll leave your corpse here," Hermione muttered to herself, glancing around the lobby. Outside, rain had began to pelt the windows and the sky was darkening immensely, and not just from the late hour. "Storm clouds are moving in," she thought to herself. "Much like the beginning of this marriage."  
  
"I can honeymoon without you," Draco said, already halfway up the staircase before waiting for his bride. "It really doesn't bother me."  
  
"I'm sure you're used to amusing yourself in more ways than one," Hermione replied bitterly, sliding by him on the staircase.  
  
"What's that mean?" he asked, following suit.  
  
"Figure it out."  
  
The stomping of their shoes on the wooden stairs caused dust to fall to the ground below them and Hermione heard several people squeal. "I wish they would stop stomping around, stupid kids," some man said. Hermione, who had just let her hair down from the large clip she had put in after the ceremony, grasped the clip tightly and heaved it over the side of the staircase in the direction of the comment. A loud protest of pain made her smile contently as she continued her way up to the room.  
  
"Someone's bringing our bags up soon," Draco said, upon reaching the door. He opened it with the key that the clerk had given him and instead of holding it open for Hermione, he let it slam in her face. Growling softly to herself, she tried the knob before realizing it was locked.  
  
"Jerk!" she muttered angrily to herself. Luckily, before she pulled out her wand, the clerk came around the corner of the staircase, dragging their luggage and carrying Hermione's hair clip.  
  
"The gentleman downstairs requested you have this back," he said, handing the clip to Hermione and she figured that was probably the polite version of what the man had said. "Your bags, sir," the clerk called, knocking on the door. When Draco opened it, he accepted the bags from the clerk before trying to close the door again. Hermione stuck her foot out and stopped it from slamming in her face a second time.  
  
"What is wrong with you?" she asked, stepping into the room and slamming the door again. Someone down the hall shouted a few choice words about the slamming of the door, but both Hermione and Draco chose to ignore them. "Back at the Manor, you were all nice and considerate towards me. Now you're Mr. Nasty again. I won't put up with it." Hermione turned to the dresser and began taking off her white gloves she had worn for the entire reception. She gently fingered the two rings on her left ring finger, seriously considering taking them off and chucking them in Draco's face.  
  
"Nothing's wrong with me," he replied, kicking his shoes off and laying on the king size bed. "I am hungry, though." He looked at her so distinctly that she couldn't stop herself.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Well, aren't you going to make me something to eat?"  
  
Hermione looked around. "I know you're dense, but I feel it is my duty as your wife to point out to you that we are in a hotel. They have service here." She emphasized the words 'hotel' and 'service' to get her point across. "I am not a waitress here, nor do I get paid for looking after you."  
  
"Your point?" Draco asked, shrugging as best he could while lying down. His hands were behind his head and Hermione felt the strong urge to knee him directly in the groin. But she kept her cool. Instead, she threw the hair clip at him and, ignoring his screeches of pain, dug her brush out of her bag and began brushing her hair.  
  
The rest of the evening did not go smoothly. If anything, it went worse than their first few hours as a married couple. Downstairs, at dinner, someone at the wedding party thought it would be a nice gesture to call the hotel and make sure they made a big deal out of the newlyweds staying at the inn. After the third round of the wedding march, Hermione finally snapped. "Thank you!" she hollered at the singing waiters, who stopped suddenly and dispersed. She caught Draco giving her an almost approving look, but it vanished as soon as he saw her looking at him.  
  
"Nice attitude," he muttered towards her before taking a sip of his water.  
  
"You flatter me," she replied tediously. She continued to eat slowly, not feeling even the least bit hungry. Whatever Ron had wanted to talk to her about still plagued her. She had not heard from him since they came back from the hospital and she only hoped that her letter to her parents had reached them and they forwarded the message on to Harry. Neither one of her parents mentioned the letter at the wedding.  
  
After supper, Hermione lay on the bed, trying to rest her eyes. Draco sat at the desk, creaking the chair legs purposely to annoy her. Every once in a while she would open an eye and glare hatefully at him. He would stop for a few moments before continuing. "Do you mind?" she asked after several minutes.  
  
"Not at all," he answered, gesturing towards her. "Sleep if you must. You will need your energy for tonight."  
  
"To kill you in your sleep," she muttered to herself.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
Hermione must have drifted off because when she awoke, the sky was pitch black, as well as the room. Draco had fallen asleep beside her and she shifted carefully, so not to wake him. The last thing she wanted was him crawling all over her.  
  
She faced the open window and looked up at the stars and the moon above. No matter where she was in this world, it was comforting to know that if she looked up at the sky, she was looking at the same moon and stars that Ron and Harry were looking at. They were still on the same plane of earth as she was, and that was a little helpful in her depression. Feeling a little put out that none of her Hogwarts teachers had been invited to the wedding, Hermione felt a tear slip down her cheek. It trickled onto her pillow and she sniffled. Loneliness was a terrible burden. She closed her eyes and softly sobbed before drifting into a solid sleep.  
  
She awoke the next morning to Draco's face leaning over her. "Breakfast," he said shortly but his voice was nowhere near as bitter as it was the night before. She sat up slowly, grinding the sleep out of her eyes and yawning. She had slept well, considering the situation, and chalked it up to exhaustion from the ceremony and reception. Her eyes followed Draco around the room as he prepared for the day and she narrowed her eyes when he looked at her.  
  
"Aren't you coming?" he asked, gesturing towards the doorway.  
  
"What do you care?" she muttered, fingering the pattern on the bedspread. Despite her several hours of rest, she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to deal with his sarcasm and attitude today.  
  
"Fine." Draco shrugged and opened the door. "I can dine without you." He let it shut and the sound echoed down the hallway. This time, no one yelled to keep it down.  
  
Standing up, aware that her head was spinning, Hermione carefully made her way towards the washroom where she splashed her face with cold water. Changing her mind, she grabbed a towel and jumped in the shower, letting the hot water stream through her hair and cleanse her body of sleeping next to a Malfoy.  
  
Hermione sat on the closed toilet seat after her shower and waited for the steam from the shower to clear out of the washroom. She dried her hair slowly with another towel and thought about what she was going to do that day. Technically, there was nothing to do. Most couples looked forward to spending time together on their honeymoon; Hermione wanted to disappear into the floor.  
  
"Back!" called Draco as the door slammed shut again. Picking up the pace, Hermione dressed and joined him in the bedroom. He was sitting on the king size bed, staring into space, a soft dreamy look pasted on his face. When he saw her, however, the look vanished. "You're up."  
  
"Don't look so happy," she retorted, walking past him and digging through her bag. She was looking for nothing in particular but chose to search rather than sit on the same bed as Draco and stare at the same blank wall.  
  
"What are you looking for?"  
  
"What do you care?"  
  
Their incessant quips at each other were interrupted by the screech of an owl. Looking up towards the open window, Hermione saw Hedwig fly in. "Hedwig!" she cried happily, accepting the owl's gracious looks. "What do you have for me?"  
  
Hedwig stuck out her leg and Hermione untied the letter. She glared at Draco, almost daring him to say something against her receiving mail. He, however, ignored the obvious fact and continued to examine the empty space on the wall in front of him.  
  
"Dear Hermione," the letter read. "I got your letter from your parents, although your father had to sneak it to me because your mother doesn't approve. Go figure. I'm sorry I couldn't be there for the wedding; Ron and I were considering crashing it, just to piss the Malfoys off. Although I don't think Lucius Malfoy needs any more reasons to hate me. I already landed him in Azkaban two years ago; he should be good and angry now.  
  
"Ron's home now. He's doing much better and is quite content with the world around him. I think he made his peace with the whole you and Malfoy deal while in the hospital. Which is good because the poor guy doesn't need any more pain than he's already got.  
  
"I hope we will see you soon, Hermione. I'm still at the Burrow because I had another row with Uncle Vernon. I can't wait until I can move out on my own. Do you think Malfoy would mind if I stayed at your new place? Love Harry. P.S. That last comment was most definitely sarcastic."  
  
Hermione smiled, the letter brightening her day. With the thought of seeing Harry and Ron again soon, she set off for the village, telling Draco that she wanted to do some shopping when all she really wanted was to get away. There was so much to think about lately: the wedding, Lily's diaries, what Ron wanted so badly to tell her and if she could ever forgive her parents for all they had done to her. She left the hotel, her heart feeling mildly lighter than before. 


	2. Newlyweds

The village of Hogsmeade was just as wondrous as it had been when Hermione last visited it. The fall leaves were casting colourful spells on the trees, making the shimmer and glimmer in the September sun. Hermione walked along the cobblestone pathway, crunching the red, orange, brown and yellow leaves in her path. Staring at the ground, swinging her arms, Hermione couldn't help but notice that the large diamond engagement ring, which was still on her finger glinted in the sun more than she originally noticed. To her, the ring symbolized so much. It wasn't just the symbol of her engagement to Draco; it was much more than that. It was, as she saw it through his eyes, the fact that she belonged to him. The fact that she had taken his name and would forever be in debt to his 'good deed' by pulling her out of a once-thought Muggle family to live amongst his riches.  
  
And it made her positively sick to think that he could ever have thoughts like that. The friendship they had constructed during her time at Malfoy Manor made her think that maybe Draco Malfoy wasn't such a bad guy after all. But once again, in the end, she was wrong and now had to suffer the consequences.  
  
"Can I help you find anything, dear?" The voice of the shrill little witch in the Charms shop distracted Hermione from her thoughts. Without really paying attention, she had drifted into the nearest shop and began browsing the displays.  
  
"No, thank you," she offered back. "I'm just looking."  
  
"Very well, dear." The witch smiled again and left her to peruse the shelves. When she left the shop and entered into the bright sunshine again, her mind drifted to other, faraway places. Like it was a time for remembering, Hermione couldn't help but think about her years at Hogwarts and how Professor Dumbledore told her in her sixth year that they would affect her for the rest of her life.  
  
"You will see, Miss Granger," he told her in his office, "the years you spend under the roof of this castle will further direct your future. You may no longer be independent, for you have made two of the best friends anyone could have; the best friends that never leave you alone."  
  
Hermione hadn't paid much attention to the elderly man's speech that day, but here in Hogsmeade, on her honeymoon, she reflected on what he had said and it hit home with her hard. Dumbledore was right; was there really any way she was going to be able to survive without Harry and Ron? Sure, she had been there for them all those years, to let them copy her homework and such. But they were always together, weren't they? What was she going to do now?  
  
Feeling rather depressed and angry with herself for thinking that way, she headed back to the hotel where she met Draco in the lobby. "I was just coming to look for you," he told her, his voice rather subdued.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Father sent us an owl."  
  
"Already?"  
  
Draco gave her a seething look. "Why must you always act so snobby?"  
  
Hermione bristled. "You didn't think I was snobby when you helped me sneak into St. Mungo's. You didn't think I was snobby when you rescued me from your father's daily lectures. You didn't think I was snobby when I joined you for midnight talks on the bench out back of the Manor."  
  
For a split second, Hermione was sure that she saw a flicker of dismay in Draco's eyes. But it passed as quickly as it came and he was back to his old wicked self. "Whatever," he muttered quickly, turning on his heels. "I'm going back upstairs."  
  
Hermione brushed past him, determined not to get shafted again. "You'll have to beat me to it," she told him, hurrying up the stairs. Draco pounded up the staircase behind her and Hermione winced as she heard another voice shout in annoyance when more dust dropped on their heads.  
  
When she reached the door to their room, she flung it open, using the magic key she had gotten from the clerk. Slamming the door in Draco's face, she leaned against it, smiling triumphantly. "Damn it!" Draco muttered on the other side of the door as he searched for the Muggle key he had been given to the room. She heard it slide into the lock and, not wanting to push her luck, she stood back from the door as it opened.  
  
"You're a bitch, you know that?"  
  
Hermione smiled and grabbed a bottle of water off the dresser. "I know," she answered, sitting down on the bed and taking a long swill of the water. She closed her eyes, grateful for the cool liquid and when she opened them again, she saw Draco standing close in front of her.  
  
"What?" she asked aggressively as he stared at her, an almost hungry look in his eyes. "What are you staring at me for?"  
  
He moved closer to her and she tightened the lid on the water bottle. Wouldn't it be a shame if it spilled on the bed? Random thoughts began popping into her mind as he moved closer to her face. He leaned down so that his nose was inches from her own.  
  
"It's the day after our wedding," he told her in a very pointedly way.  
  
"Yeah," she said, drawing out for time. She knew what was coming and she didn't want to confront such a subject when she was feeling already uneasy.  
  
"We've spent an entire night together."  
  
"You're a smart cookie," she said, holding the bottle up to him in a silent cheers motion. She considered taking another drink from the cold bottle but the look on Draco's face stopped her.  
  
"Aren't we forgetting something?"  
  
"Breath mints?" Hermione's joke fell on deaf ears as Draco leaned forward and kissed her, not forcefully as she had expected, but rather gently on the lips. When he pulled back, he looked shocked at his actions. He stood up quickly and Hermione waited for him to wipe his mouth and screech. But he never did and she fought the urge to wipe her own lips.  
  
"Hermione," he said softly, leaning towards her again. His lips met hers gently, then more pressured. Something deep inside her agony soaked mind stirred and woke up. She felt herself groping at his face for more, urging him on with her moans.  
  
"Room service!" called a voice from outside the door and Hermione broke away, breathing heavily. Flashes of Ron's smiling face from two summers ago entered her brain as the tears protruded her eyes. She jumped up, almost knocking Draco over in the process, and hurried to the washroom where she splashed cold water on her face. Outside, in the room, she could hear the clerk telling Draco that they had an escaped rat somewhere in the hotel and if they saw it, could they call the front desk as soon as possible.  
  
Hermione ignored Draco's pleads to open the door as soon as the clerk left. "We're married," he asserted. "You had better get used to it."  
  
"I won't!" she shouted through the closed wooden door and she heard him curse angrily. "I don't know what's going on with you," she snarled, "but whatever it is, I don't like it. One minute you're my best friend, but as soon as we're married, suddenly I'm your worst enemy. Make up your mind, Malfoy!"  
  
The sting of her words carried through the door and Draco sighed softly. "Just get over it," he told her. "Weasley and Potter are gone. You'll never see them again, Malfoy." Hermione winced as he used the last name she had taken unwillingly. It was yet another mark, proving that she indeed did belong to him.  
  
The rest of the honeymoon proved to be just a vile as the first day. Hermione made sure that she was out of the hotel room until very late at night, returning only when Draco was asleep. If he noticed she was trying to avoid the consummation of the marriage, he didn't say anything to her. When they left Hogsmeade a few days later, they were taken to their new home where Hermione felt immediate disgust.  
  
Having packed their belongings before the honeymoon, someone from Malfoy Manor had dropped them off in a hurry. Their bags were scattered throughout the main hallway and Hermione did all but growl at the sight of the luggage strewn across the marble floor.  
  
She noticed how similar this house was to Malfoy Manor. Lucius, having had most of the say during its construction, had most likely deemed it to be that way, forever reminding Hermione of the family she had gained. She sighed heavily, determined to make this empty shell feel more like a home. She began dragging the bags upstairs to unpack, certain that Draco could unpack for himself.  
  
"Where are you going?" Draco appeared from the shadowed corner by the staircase, causing Hermione to jump and drop the bags.  
  
"Upstairs," she answered, picking up the bags again. "In case you haven't noticed, that's where these stairs lead. And they also go downstairs as well."  
  
Draco's face twisted into a contorted grin. "Don't take that tone with me," he told her firmly. "I won't have it in my house."  
  
Hermione snapped. Throwing the luggage down on the first step, she stood up to him, face to face. "In case you haven't noticed this either," she told him in one breath, "I am your wife. This is your marriage house, the house you share with your wife. If you push me to the point that I leave you, Daddy will take it all away."  
  
Draco's face remained indifferent but Hermione thought she saw a gleam of happiness in his eyes. "Go ahead, leave. I don't care."  
  
Hermione glared back at him before backing away and carrying the bags upstairs. She was fuming at him for even suggesting such a thing. Her threat had merely been empty for she was pretty sure that the housing crew Lucius had assigned to them were also acting as spies. The second Hermione tried to escape, someone would surely alert Lucius and she would be carted back to the mansion. Why waste the energy?  
  
At the end of the day, Hermione had managed to unpack all her belongings, which didn't seem like much in the great house. Looking around the rather empty bedroom, which consisted of a bed, two giant dressers and a nightstand on either side of the bed, she decided that it would need a woman's touch to get in order. Knowing fully that adding frilly laces and pink covers to everything would enrage Draco, she made a mental note to go into town during the next few days and stock up on 'girly' items.  
  
Sitting down at the kitchen table, one of the few items of furniture in the house, Hermione brought out her quill and a parchment. She thought quietly before beginning her letter.  
  
"Dear Ron, I hope everything's going well for you now that you're out of the hospital. Are you feeling okay? I promise I will try to visit as soon as I can." She looked up from her writing and glanced around the kitchen. Their housing crew had yet to be introduced to them and would arrive the following day. How could she put into the letter the pain she felt at the separation she had made from the schoolgirl she was at Hogwarts? How could she tell him how much she longed to have the days back when her biggest concern was writing a test at the end of the week? It was too much for her, emotionally and she considered going upstairs to cry. Crying always made her feel better but something deep within her stirred and she fought the urge to break down and sob.  
  
"I will visit," she repeated, more determined this time. "Send Harry and your family my love. I'll see you soon." Then, as a postscript, she added, "What did you want to talk to me about at the hospital?" Rolling up the parchment, she tucked it away in her pocket and looked out the window across the grounds.  
  
When she had married Draco, she had taken on more than his name. She also took on the entire Malfoy fortune. The house that Lucius had constructed for them was enormous and Hermione found it almost suffocating to think that she had to help maintain the household chores. Granted, a housing crew, including cleaning ladies, would be introduced to them the next day, but Hermione was going to go crazy sitting around doing nothing while others around her worked hard. The Malfoy family were firm believers in the male working hard and the female staying at home. Hermione didn't know how Narcissa Malfoy had done it for so long; sitting here now was driving her insane.  
  
"I'm going to bed." Draco's blunt greeting startled Hermione and she turned suddenly. "Are you coming?"  
  
Hermione looked around at the bare table. Draco had gone out for supper but Hermione, insisting that she wasn't hungry, declined his offer. As a peace offering, he had brought her a sandwich from the diner down the street but Hermione had put it directly in the refrigerator to save it for another day. "Yeah, I guess I'll come up," she said, nervous about sleeping in her very own house. As she stood, part of her wanted to grab Draco around the neck and jump for joy. Their very own home! It didn't matter whom you shared it with; owning your very own house created a very special feeling inside.  
  
Draco must have noticed her happiness because as she passed him in the doorway, he commented, "You look cheerful."  
  
"Just off in my own world right now," she replied dreamily, eager to keep the peace between them. "You know how it is."  
  
"I guess I do," he replied. She turned on the stairs to face him behind her. "I'm not the world's toughest guy," he said to her surprised look. "I'm really not."  
  
Once inside the bedroom, Draco closed the door softly. Hermione looked around, wondering if she really wanted to spend the rest of her life here. It was a gorgeous house, set on a wonderful piece of property, but she wasn't sure she could live up to be the wife that the Malfoys expected her to be. She wasn't one to play second fiddle and that's basically what her role as Mrs. Draco Malfoy was: to be the follower.  
  
After she had changed in the washroom and brushed her hair, she entered the bedroom again to find Draco already in bed, the covers pulled up to his chin. He looked at her before facing the other way.  
  
She climbed in beside him, determined not to disturb him, for fear of another row. Lying down on the cool sheets, she sighed. Here she was, in her new home, been married almost a full week, and having no desire to even go near her husband. She could hear him breathing beside her as his breaths became steeper and steadier until she was almost sure he was asleep. Rolling to face away from him, she closed her eyes and forced her brain to sleep. 


	3. There's a First Time For Everything

After the housing crew arrived the following day, Hermione felt restless. She hated sitting around doing nothing while they cleaned. Draco had left for his new job almost immediately after the cleaning crew had begun working and Hermione wasn't sure what to do with herself.  
  
She sat on the sofa for a while, trying to break it is, seeing as it was new. Then when one of the cleaning ladies came in to run the magical vacuum across the floor, Hermione stood up quickly to leave.  
  
"I didn't mean to frighten you away," said the lady, smiling gently. "You can stay if you like."  
  
"I'm not leaving because of you," Hermione started. She was going to finish with, "I was leaving because you're cleaning," but that sounded utterly impeded. "I forgot I have to do something upstairs." She returned a brief smile to the happy cleaning lady before asking her name.  
  
"Hilda," the lady replied. She was about middle-aged with brunette hair and brown eyes. She looked friendly enough and Hermione found it difficult to believe she could be one of Lucius' spies.  
  
"It's nice to meet you, Hilda," Hermione said. "But I really do have to get upstairs. I'll see you again soon."  
  
"I'm sure you will," Hilda said, as Hermione started up the staircase. Smiling to herself, happy to have met someone who wasn't looking extremely sour, Hermione flung herself on the bed. She felt like screaming, she was so bored. Sitting up, she played a quick game of Solitaire with a Muggle deck of cards she had gotten from her parents years ago. After losing several times in a row, and refusing to cheat, she gave up and sat back against the pillows on the enormous bed.  
  
Feeling the child in her come bursting forth, she had a major urge to stand up on the bed and begin jumping. Mature and responsible as she may be, she sometimes wished she could revert back to her childhood when everything was so easy and simple. But she passed up on the bed-jumping idea, convinced that anyone who witnessed that act might think she was on the brink of insanity. She buried her face in the pillow and drifted in and out of a soft sleep.  
  
"Hermione! Hermione, get up. It's almost six. You've been asleep far too long. Wake up!"  
  
Hermione shrugged the voice off as her imagination and tried to bring herself back to the dream world. She was having a wonderful dream about her, Ron and Harry at Hogwarts. They were sitting outside, laughing and joking. Everyone was getting along and there was a peaceful atmosphere around them.  
  
"Hermione! Do I have to get the hose?"  
  
Draco's threat made her take notice of his insistence. She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. "What time did you say it was?"  
  
"Almost six." Draco looked exhausted. His hair was falling over one eye and he was standing lopsided, like someone had placed something incredibly heavy on his one shoulder. "Supper is soon; will you hurry up and get out of bed?" He went to the mirror on the wall to fix his hair. "You'll never believe who came into the office today. That Weasley scum you used to hang around with. He came in looking for a licence to start his own business."  
  
"Ron?" Hermione felt like she was still dreaming. "What department do you work in anyway, Draco?"  
  
"Magical permits and licences," he replied bitterly. "But Father says as soon as something else comes along, they'll move me to a higher level. All in all, it's not a bad place to start." He nodded, content with his hair. "I wouldn't have given Weasley the permit, but Hobbs, my partner, decided he seemed worthy enough." Draco gave a snort of contempt. "Whatever. Well, I'm ready for dinner." He walked to the doorway and held the door for a moment. "Coming?"  
  
Hermione felt confused. She was happy for Ron, if he was starting his own business, but on the other hand, he must not be all that occupied with thoughts of her if he wasn't too busy to open his own business. Should she be happy or upset at this thought? She climbed off the bed and straightened her clothes. "What kind of business was he starting?" she asked nonchalantly as she headed into the washroom to freshen up.  
  
"Something about practical jokes," came the reply. "Will you hurry up? I'm starving."  
  
"Well, I can see why," Hermione thought to herself. "You've never worked a day in your life." She finished fixing herself up before following Draco downstairs.  
  
That night, Hermione crawled into bed as usual, after changing in the washroom. She felt comfortable between the coolness of the sheets and breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of fresh lemons.  
  
"Why do you always change in the washroom?" Draco asked after a few moments of lying in complete silence. The moonlight was streaming in the window as Hermione turned to face her husband.  
  
"I don't know," she replied honestly.  
  
"Why don't you start changing out here?"  
  
Hermione began to squirm. She knew he was going to ask these questions, but she dreaded the moment when he did. "I don't know," she repeated. "I just don't."  
  
Draco, who had been propped up on his elbow looking at her, dropped down on his back. "It's not like I'm never going to see you without your clothes," he said quietly, "although it's starting to feel that way."  
  
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked before she could stop herself. Once again, Draco sat up, but refused to look at her.  
  
"We've been married for almost two weeks now, Hermione!" he cried, throwing his hands up in frustration. "And so far, we've failed to have sex!"  
  
Hermione winced and turned away from him. "I was taught that you have sex with someone you love."  
  
She could hear the hesitation in Draco's voice. "Do you love me?"  
  
It was Hermione's turn to hesitate. "I thought I did," she confessed. "When I first started living at Malfoy Manor. You were so kind and caring and protective of me. I used to love our little late-night chats outside on the bench in the backyard. It was all so romantic."  
  
"Then what happened?"  
  
Hermione sat up and looked him directly in the eye. "Then we got married."  
  
The next thing she knew, Draco was on top of her, his lips pressed heavily to hers. She tried to avoid him and move out of the way, but she felt crushed. After a moment, something deep inside her stirred, the same thing that stirred within her the last time he had kissed her. She felt herself relenting to him and his will.  
  
It didn't hurt as much as she thought it would. She relaxed and let her body have a mind of it's own. When it was over, Draco fell almost immediately to sleep, leaving Hermione torn between tears of happiness that it was finally over, and tears of sorrow because it wasn't with someone she truly loved. It took her hours to fall asleep as she watched the moon outside the window, hoping that Ron and Harry were looking up at it, too.  
  
When Hermione awoke the next morning, Draco was already up and had left for work. She stayed in bed for a while, contemplating how things would be between them now. She felt a little sore when she finally did stand up, but a hot shower solved that problem. She got dressed and decided to go shopping that day, to clear her head.  
  
"Do you need a ride?" asked Harley, their new chauffeur.  
  
"No, thank you," Hermione replied, smiling gratefully at him. "It's only few minutes' walk. I'll be fine." She headed down the long drive and out onto the street. Moments later, she arrived in the village, looking around, wondering where to begin. There was so much to look at, now that she was looking specifically for Ron's store.  
  
Giggling voice behind her called her name as she went to enter the Three Broomsticks for a quick drink. "Hermione! Over here!"  
  
Turning in the direction of the commotion, she noticed Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil waving happily at her. "How are you?" Parvati gushed. "It's been so long!"  
  
"Yes, it has," Hermione agreed quietly, eyeing the numerous shopping bags in their hands. Lavender seemed to be avoiding her eye, but Parvati made no attempts to hush anything up.  
  
"How is it going as Mrs. Malfoy?" She giggled as she said the name. "Hermione Malfoy. That's so cute!"  
  
"It's going okay," Hermione lied, not wanting to admit that the first time she and her husband had made love was almost two weeks after their wedding. "It's a little hectic right now."  
  
"I can imagine," Parvati said, growing deadly serious, "with Lucius Malfoy as a father-in-law." She shuddered. "Draco's bad enough, let alone his father. It's like two of them in one shot!"  
  
Lavender cleared her throat and Parvati looked at her, surprised. "Well, we should be going," she said quickly. "I told my parents we'd be back by lunchtime. Take care, okay?"  
  
"You guys, too," Hermione said, waving back. She watched them enviously as they giggled and skipped their way out of sight. What she wouldn't have given right them to be one of the happy ones, walking along with no cares in the world? How nice that would be.  
  
That afternoon, Hermione bought several frilly objects to place around the house, more for her own pleasure now than to simply annoy Draco. She was intent on making things work with him, or if not work, at least be peaceful. She wasn't sure how he would react upon seeing her after last night's so-called passion, so instead of heading back to the manor after shopping, she took a trip to Hogwarts.  
  
Seeing her old school made her heart jump and her eyes well up with tears. It seemed all she was doing these days was spending endless hours crying over nothing. It got to be irritating after a while and she was intent on making it stop. Grinding her damp eyes, she stared up at the giant castle, finding herself somewhat homesick.  
  
Oh, the times she had spent in that castle and on it's magnificent grounds. She couldn't resist playing in her mind, over and over again, the first time Ron had kissed her. It had been down by the lake and it wasn't anything serious. Just a goodbye kiss after their sixth year until he saw her again at the Burrow in the beginning of August. That had been a long summer, no doubt about it, and she couldn't have been happier to return to school. Seeing her friends made her day brighten.  
  
Now, dreary as it seemed, she managed to gather up all her energy and drag herself back to the mansion. It was after seven in the evening and Hermione fully expected a lecture from Draco the minute she entered the house, but no such event occurred.  
  
"Where's Draco?" she asked Hilda as she threw her jacket over the back of a kitchen chair. Grabbing a carrot stick from the vegetable tray the cook always prepared with dinner, Hermione straddled the chair where she threw her jacket and stared at Hilda.  
  
The cleaning lady stopped wiping the counter, looking confused. "I don't know," she finally replied. "He came in after work, in a terribly bad mood, but what else is new? Anyway, he muttered something about having to see his father immediately."  
  
"Wonder what Lucius wants?" Hermione mused, chewing softly on the carrot stick. If Lucius was going to try and butt into their lives again, Hermione wouldn't hear of it.  
  
"I don't think it was so much his choice," Hilda said quietly, referring to Lucius Malfoy. "His son seemed rather insistent on speaking with him no matter what the circumstances were."  
  
Hermione nodded slowly before standing up. " Thanks," she muttered to Hilda. "Please tell the others that I will wait until Draco is home before having supper." She fled upstairs to her bedroom, inhaling the lemony scent that breezed through the room. She sat on the bed heavily, wondering what was so important with Lucius that Draco would miss a chance to reprimand Hermione. Finding herself incredibly bored, she began flipping through one of Lily's diaries to pass the time. She read all about Lily's detailed descriptions of their wacky Muggle neighbours and re-read baby Harry's journey through toddler-age. Before she knew it, almost an hour had passed and she heard heavy footsteps banging up the staircase.  
  
"Damn it!" Draco entered the room so forcefully that all of Hermione's thoughts about how he would act towards her after the night before flew out the window. "Damn him to hell!" he cursed again.  
  
"What?" Hermione sat up on her knees on the bed, eager to hear why Draco was so mad at a certain person that Hermione would bet was Lucius Malfoy.  
  
Draco suddenly seemed to notice that she was in the room. "Nothing," he muttered quickly, staring in the mirror on the wall. "Nothing at all." His suddenly cheerful façade made Hermione shake her head.  
  
"Nice try," she coaxed, "but seriously, what's wrong?"  
  
"Just a bad day," Draco replied. "But I'm starved now. When are we eating?" 


	4. Hermione's Thoughts

October drifted in with miserable weather. Heavy rains became torrential at times, leaving Hermione stuck inside the mansion while Draco was at work every day. She very quickly became bored and chose to buy a journal on one of the very few outings she had to the village.  
  
Once she opened it, the memories of a blank diary began to fill her brain. Harry had once opened a blank diary in their second year and it turned out to be possessed. Quickly, she dipped her quill in the ink and wrote the date at the top of the page. When the words didn't disappear, she breathed a sigh of relief. Underneath the date, her quill hovered, for she had no idea what to write in a diary entry.  
  
I'm in our new home, she finally scrawled. You know, the second Malfoy manor. In a ways that seems what it is because whatever Draco does, he's imitating his father. So it would only seem natural that he wants to run his house the same way. It drives me crazy sometimes, the way he tried to act like Lucius, but only ends up making a fool of himself.  
  
She paused for a moment. It felt good to put these thoughts on paper where no one else could read them but her. But how secure would that be? She would never tell Draco or anyone from the house that she had a journal in which she wrote her most secretive and nasty thoughts but if Draco ever found out, he would make it every piece of his business to see it. Grabbing her wand from the nightstand, she waved it over the book and chanted, "Demini." The words she had written faded out of sight slowly. Waving her wand again and muttered, "Emergen." The words reappeared, no different than from when Hermione wrote them. She smiled in satisfaction and continued to vent her feelings about Draco and their poor excuse for a marriage.  
  
It wasn't as if she didn't catch Draco giving her hopeful looks whenever he thought she wasn't looking. He often glanced her way during supper, hoping to catch her when she was noticing him, and stared at her, almost willing her to do something. When Hermione looked up, however, he would turn his head away.  
  
I don't know why he just doesn't say what's on his mind, she declared in the journal one afternoon. The rain was pounding at the windows, making them rattle and there was a distinct sound of thunder in the background. She lay on her stomach on the bed, scribbling furiously in her journal. I mean, if he has something to say, why doesn't he? It's never stopped him before. The way he flouted around school, acting like he meant everything to the world. Well he never did until me. I thought marriage would bring us closer together but I think it's driven a stake between us. I can't figure out, for the life of me, why he's been acting so hateful towards me ever since the wedding. We were okay friends up until that moment when we were pronounced husband and wife. Should I have done something differently during the ceremony? Or is he just scared like me?  
  
Her last comment was more bitter and sarcastic than genuine. She had been terrified of failing at marriage, not because she wanted a marriage with Draco to work, but because she wanted to know how she would be as someone's wife. But almost a month after being married, she determined the fact that she had failed already and that, in her mind, was pretty sad.  
  
She received an owl from her parents the following morning, telling her that they were going to visit. "We'll see you in a few days, darling," her mother had written, practically making Hermione gag. Her life was miserable as it was; the last thing she wanted was to have her own mother fawn over everything in the new house, including in her new husband. Hermione knew her father would be on her side, though, so that helped in her decision to agree to the visit.  
  
Sure enough, the Saturday that followed, Mr. and Mrs. Granger showed up on the front doorstep of the mansion, mouths agape. "It's beautiful!" cried Mrs. Granger as Gemini, one of the maids, accepted her coat with a great look of disgust. "Your father picked a wonderful piece of land, Draco."  
  
"Thank you, Mrs. Granger," Draco replied in a real attempt to be nice. Ever since the night when he and Hermione had finally consummated their marriage, he had been more lenient in the ways of her life. Her parents' visit was considered a luxury.  
  
"Mom, why don't we sit in the sitting room?" Hermione asked desperately to try and stop her mother from staring at Gemini, who had fairy blood in her veins. "This way," she directed them, rather roughly.  
  
"In a hurry to get them out?" Draco smirked.  
  
"Shut up and help me," she muttered out of the corner of her mouth.  
  
"Well I'm glad to see you two have adjusted so well," Mrs. Granger said, taking a seat daintily on the sofa. "After all, you are both adults now and should be able to act like it."  
  
Hermione and Draco both pasted grins on their faces, neither one willing to mention the food fight that had almost erupted over dinner a few nights ago. "Right, Mom," Hermione answered. "Draco got a job with the Ministry! Why don't you tell them about it?" She looked expectantly at him.  
  
"Well, um, I work in the Magical Licences office," he began, desperately searching for words to make it seem like he was hardworking. Hermione knew all he did all day was sit behind a desk and play Exploding Snap with Hobbs. "And it can be trying at times."  
  
Mr. Granger gave him a withering glance but his wife was beaming at the couple sitting across from them. "Good for you!" she cheered for him. "I'm glad you have a job you like."  
  
"Hermione, dear, why don't you tell them what you do with your day?" Draco asked, turning towards her. Hermione shot him a nasty look.  
  
"Well, I try to help out with the housecleaning as much as I can," she said slowly, watching her mother shake her head violently. "What?"  
  
Mrs. Granger smiled. "My dear, that's why you have a housing crew. They are supposed to clean and you pay them for it. You're not supposed to do anything of the sorts! You're the lady of the house." She drew herself up with pride and Draco hid a snort of contempt.  
  
"Mum, it's not like that," she started but her father interrupted.  
  
"Krystal, if the girl wants to help out, let her help out!" There was a bitter tone in his voice. "She's living with her husband now; you can't boss her around anymore."  
  
"I'm not trying to boss her around, Edward. I'm simply trying to advise her."  
  
"Giving her advice she doesn't want, mind you."  
  
"Oh, and I suppose you're the expert on our daughter here?"  
  
"I am and have been for many years," Mr. Granger returned before glancing at Hermione. "Let's not discuss this here."  
  
But Mrs. Granger was raring to go. "What's not to discuss here, Edward?" she asked, her eyes glaring. "Shall we not discuss the fact that you practically raised our daughter while I was supposedly out on the town, ignoring my responsibilities as a mother? Or the fact that you helped her with her homework while I drank my life away? Oh, I know what it is! It's the fact that you wanted to tell her all her life that she was a pureblood, that must be what we shouldn't discuss here."  
  
Silence reigned in the room as Mrs. Granger finished yelling. Hermione felt mildly shocked that her father had wanted to tell her all along but had been held down by her mother. Yet, she was beginning to feel that nothing in her life could ever truly surprise her anymore. In the past few years, she had been subjected to so many revelations and had experienced so much that she just didn't care anymore.  
  
Mr. Granger stood up immediately. His wife's outburst seemed to have lit a spark in him. "Let's go," he said to her, helping her up by the arm. "Now," he persisted when she refused. Turning to face Hermione, he smiled softly. "Sorry about this, honey. I promise I will come visit you soon again. We'll show ourselves out." He stalked out of the room, Mrs. Granger following closely behind him, muttering how the truth had to be told.  
  
Draco and Hermione sat in silence for several moments after they heard the door shut. Hermione was staring at her hands, which were folded in her lap. Draco was the first to speak.  
  
"Do you think we'll be like that when we're older?"  
  
And for the first time in many months, Hermione began to laugh. She laughed until her sides ached and she felt parched in the throat. Tears of laughter and confusion rolled down her face as she gasped for air.  
  
"What's so funny?" Draco asked, appearing suddenly alarmed at the possibility that his wife was losing her mind. "Hermione, what's so damn funny?"  
  
She wiped away the few remaining tears and continued to giggle. "Will we be like that when we've been married for twenty years?" she asked. "Draco, we're like that now." Once again, she collapsed into a fit of giggles. "You heard us, trying to stump each other with stories to my parents! We're ridiculous now." She continued to laugh and pretty soon both she and Draco were rolling on the couch in laughter.  
  
"It's nice to know that you're human," Draco said, looking over at her when they had finally calmed down.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"That you can laugh like that. I've never seen you laugh before."  
  
Hermione looked away. "Up until now, there hasn't been much to laugh at."  
  
Draco nodded slowly before looking at the clock on the mantle. "I'm going to go inform the cooks that there will be just two of us for lunch today instead of four, like it was originally planned." He stood up and began to walk away but doubled back and leaned over Hermione, his hands on either side of her on the sofa.  
  
"Things will get better," he promised before kissing her gently on the lips. He left for the kitchen then and Hermione touched her lips lightly. Living with Draco Malfoy was like being on a non-stop roller coaster.  
  
I don't get it, Hermione wrote in her journal that night after Draco had gone to sleep. My parents are geeks; well, my mother is at least. My father at least seems sensible but nothing could surprise me anymore. And Draco is, well, he's changing every day. One minute he's biting my face off over something as trivial as accidentally pulling the sheets off the bed in my sleep. The next minute, he's kissing me gently and telling me that everything's going to end up all right. Is this what marriage is supposed to be like?  
  
With all the confusion of her parents' visit and the task of trying to keep busy during the day, Hermione had forgotten about what Draco had been in such a bad mood about that one night when he came home from work. She was reminded, however, when one evening, after supper, she and Draco were in the sitting room, not talking when the doorbell rang.  
  
"Wonder who that is?" Draco muttered, looking up at the clock.  
  
Hermione shrugged. Her mind was off in space, trying to think of new things to do during the day. Maybe she would become an alcoholic. It would give her something to do.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy? You're father is here." Gemini had entered the room, followed closely by Lucius Malfoy. Draco instantly stood up.  
  
"Dad, what are you doing here?"  
  
Lucius grinned his evil grin. "Don't I have the right to come visit my favourite son and daughter-in-law?"  
  
Hermione didn't bother pointing out that they were his only son and daughter-in-law.  
  
"I thought I told you a few weeks ago that I didn't want anything to do with you," Draco said carefully, his voice controlled.  
  
"Well, you and I have a few other things to discuss," Lucius replied, his smile vanishing. "Please, where's your office?"  
  
"The same place as yours," Hermione piped up from the sofa and Lucius glared at her. "Coincidence?"  
  
"Foolish girl," Lucius muttered before following Draco out of the room.  
  
Hermione sighed and stared at the mantle across the room from her. What a boring life she led. It wasn't long until she could hear screaming voices through the walls.  
  
"I don't know how you could do this!" Draco screamed. "After all you've put us through already and then you throw this on me!"  
  
"I found you a decent wife, didn't I?" Lucius replied, just as loud.  
  
"Except for one thing!" Draco cried, but the rest of his sentence was lost as Gemini entered the room and asked if Hermione wanted anything else.  
  
"No, thank you," she replied, eager to get rid of Gemini so she could strain her ears to hear what was being said.  
  
"So we'll do it again," Lucius said, almost pleadingly. "And this time for real."  
  
"No way." Draco's voice was defiant. "You blew this one, Dad. Big time." Somewhere in the giant house a door slammed and soon Draco appeared back in the sitting room.  
  
"Everything alright?" Hermione asked, fully knowing the answer.  
  
Draco only shook his head. "Not exactly." He leaned forward. "Look, Hermione, we've got to talk."  
  
"Draco, don't you dare." Lucius appeared in the room and looked absolutely furious. "Don't even think about saying a word."  
  
"Why not, Dad? Want to tell her yourself?"  
  
Lucius suddenly looked frightened. "No. But you won't tell her, either."  
  
"Want to bet?" Draco's eyes were shining. "Watch me." 


	5. Draco's Story

"I'm going to start from the beginning, Hermione," Draco told her, ignoring the snide looks from his father. "I didn't want to marry you at first, but after a while, the idea grew on me. After all, you were no longer the buck-toothed, funny haired girl you were when you first came to Hogwarts. You were catching all the eyes of the guys in the school during our sixth and seventh years and I felt incredibly proud to be engaged to you." He took a deep breath. "I was so excited at the prospect of having the title of your husband that I didn't think of all that came with it. During the ceremony, my mind reeled and I found myself really listening to what the minister was saying." He glared at Lucius. "Could I really care for you? Could I really stay by your side for all eternity? Could we really put behind us the years of torture we endured together to live a life as a married couple? I didn't think so. And I became scared. I became very scared that what I had planned for us in life wasn't enough. I hated feeling so insecure so I covered it up by playing the part of the jerk."  
  
"Right." Hermione's voice was soft and she wasn't sure whether or not to believe him. He had just described the way she had felt for the longest time, but from his point of view. Could he be telling the truth or was he pulling her leg as some sort of mean prank?  
  
"But you grew on me again, Hermione. I found myself becoming more attached and protective of you. Hobbs, my partner at work, used to go to Hogwarts, only he finished his seventh year when we were in third. He kept making fun of you at the office one day and I kept standing up for you. 'What's the matter?' he had asked me. 'Do you really have feelings for the twit?' And I have to admit, Hermione, I answered yes." He sighed heavily again. "I answered yes, Hermione, because I did care. I do." His eyes were shining and pure, making Hermione want to lash out in fury. "Love is a strong emotion and it's something that takes time to get in to," Draco continued, "so I won't say I love you. But I do care for you deeply and I only changed my attitude after the wedding because I was scared that I wouldn't be able to provide for the two of us properly."  
  
"How sweet," Lucius said from a dark corner where he had leaned against the wall. Draco glared angrily at him.  
  
"I haven't got to the best part," he said, facing his father but speaking to Hermione. "My dear old dad here decided that he wanted to play the part of the slime for once and pulled a pretty nasty trick on us."  
  
"What is it?" Hermione asked, almost afraid to know.  
  
Draco looked back and forth from Lucius, who was shaking his head, to Hermione, who was shaking all over. "Did you ever wonder," he began slowly, "why the wedding ceremony was moved up so many times?"  
  
Hermione nodded slowly. "At first it was going to be three years after school. Then one year. Then at the end of that year. Then at the beginning of fall. Why?" Her heart had begun to race.  
  
"It seems that my father here, which I'm almost disgusted to call him, decided it would be 'funny' if he hired a fake minister to oversee the ceremony."  
  
The words took a few minutes to lodge in Hermione' brain. A fake minister? She glanced back at forth between Lucius and Draco. Lucius was looking grim, but the faint remnants of a smile remained on his lips. Draco, on the other hand, was looking positively ill. "A fake minister," she repeated slowly. "So that would mean?"  
  
"Yes," Draco confirmed. "You and I are not really married."  
  
Hermione felt her entire world turn upside down. Her stomach flopped and her head swirled. She wasn't Mrs. Draco Malfoy. She didn't have to be here. She didn't have to live in this house, day after day and be bored out of her mind. She didn't have to do it! So why wasn't she feeling happy?  
  
Rage, hot white, boiling rage, bubbled up inside her as she stared at Lucius' smirking face. "An innocent joke," he claimed.  
  
Yeah, an innocent joke. That's all it was, wasn't it? An innocent joke. Toying with two people's personal lives. Making them live a life of hell together, almost killing each other in the process. Making each of them want to scream and vent their frustrations of inadequacy on each other. Just an innocent joke. Right.  
  
"You're sick," Hermione said, looking back and forth between the two generations of Malfoys in front of her. "You're completely sick."  
  
"I didn't have anything to do with it!" Draco cried. "The other day, remember the night I came home really angry? Hobbs had been saying that the whole thing was a sham and he had heard it from my father himself. I told Hobbs that he was wrong and my father was a lot of things but he was not a liar. Apparently I was wrong." He glared at Lucius.  
  
"I went to Malfoy Manor that night, determined to sort things out, but as soon as he heard what I was there for, to confirm the rumours, he refused to see me. I sent him owl after owl in the past few weeks, but to no avail. He either ignored my requests in the letters, or ignored my letters completely. It made me sick."  
  
"You finally annoyed me so much that I came to visit," Lucius said in his sickening voice.  
  
"And brought with you the news I didn't want to hear," Draco said, not taking his glaring eyes off of Lucius.  
  
"So that's what you were yelling about," Hermione said as it finally dawned on her. She felt incredibly slow at this point. "I heard you in the office. Lucius said something about finding you a wife and you said that there was only one problem."  
  
"Yeah," Draco replied, sitting up straighter. "That you weren't really my wife. He then proposed the fact that we have another wedding and this time get a real minister in. But there were two problems with that. One, I can't trust this man." He gestured towards Lucius in the shadows who immediately gave a 'who, me?' look. "Second of all, is you, Hermione."  
  
"Me?"  
  
"Yes, you. You're not Mrs. Malfoy. You can leave. If you want, you can walk out that door and never turn back. And I have to say, I wish I could do the same." He lowered his head and Hermione immediately felt remorse. Guilt swept through her body as she planned her life ahead of her in her mind: going to the Burrow, telling everyone it was all a sham. Mrs. Weasley would make a celebratory dinner and Ron would be happy again. She would live with them for a while, before Ron proposed to her and they lived happily ever after. After all, she couldn't go home to her parents again.  
  
Her parents. Did they know about the fake minister? Were they a part of the whole scam? She didn't really want to know. She looked at Draco's sad face and contemplated how it would be for her to leave him here. The guilt would eat at her for the rest of her life.  
  
"I have to think about this," she said, standing up. "I'll let you know as soon as I've thought about it. Although I know it's a rough decision to wait for, I have to ask you to please not pester me about it. I need my time." She rounded on Lucius then, fury in her eyes.  
  
"As for you, I do not think you are even close to being worthy of living on this planet. Let alone the fact that you led so many people on, you hurt your one and only son and this is a greater crime than the one you originally committed. I hope you will think long and hard before trying to meddle in anyone else's lives." She turned on her heels and marched out of the room and up the giant staircase to the bedroom, where she threw herself on the bed and waited for the tears to come.  
  
Strangely enough, they didn't. She felt hollow inside, like no emotion had ever settled there. It was strange; ever since the engagement had been announced, she wanted to curl up and die. She would have given anything to have someone tell her that it was all a joke and that she didn't really have to marry Draco Malfoy. She would have been so happy if this had all happened months ago.  
  
But now, she had grown oddly attached to having Draco around. It was natural to have him come home after work and for the two of them to spend quality time in silence in the sitting room for hours at a time. It was natural for her to roll over in the middle of the night and see him beside her. It was natural for him to wrap his arms around her in his sleep and for the two of them to lie there, entwined together, sleeping peacefully. It had only been a month, but everything seemed so accepted now. She took it all for granted.  
  
Her mind was emotionally full. Pulling the covers up over her, she drifted in and out of sleep for several hours, feeling that it was her only escape from the cruel hand Fate had suddenly dealt her. 


	6. Aftermath

When she awoke, night was falling outside her window. Shocked that she had managed to sleep through the majority of the day, she got up slowly and stretched, wondering why she felt so incredibly horrible.  
  
It was only when she looked out the window and saw Lucius' broom standing up outside their front door that she remembered what had happened and instantly felt sick to her stomach. She sat down quickly to relieve the nausea and decided she had to see her friends. There were some things in this world that were okay to withstand alone, but Hermione had been through enough and needed her friends, now more than ever.  
  
She grabbed her quill and parchment and jotted a quick note. "Harry and Ron, please meet me in Hogsmeade up by the Shrieking Shack this Wednesday at noon. I have loads of new information to tell you and I need your advice. Love, Hermione." She rolled up the note and attached it to the leg of Gadget, whom she had claimed with her when she made the move her new home. "Be careful," she whispered to the owl as he sailed out of sight.  
  
She sat down on the bed again, placing her head in her hands. She didn't want to go downstairs for she knew Lucius would still be there and the last thing she wanted to do was face him while she was still so full of rage. "I'll wait a while," she told herself, pulling out her journal. She began to record more random thoughts that drifted in and out of her brain, determined to find a way to tell Harry and Ron the news without absolutely destroying either one of them.  
  
How am I supposed to tell them that I have the chance to leave the place I've dreaded for so long, yet I can't find the courage within myself to do it? she wrote in her diary. For so long, I've craved to move out of this hellhole and back to my old home of Hogwarts. I realize now that that can no longer be, but Mrs. Weasley might let me stay at the Burrow. Hopefully, because if not, I have nowhere else to go.  
  
She put her quill down and thought for a moment. What she had just written seemed like she was going to leave for sure and for the longest time, that seemed like the right answer. Everything in her mind pointed to her departure. But what would things be like if she stayed? Although the option was there, she had never fully considered it. Would Draco be kinder? Would he actually let her get a job and separate from his father's old-fashioned ways? Could she live under the same roof as him without being married to him, or would she marry him? That was the biggest decision of all, for she couldn't decide if she truly loved him or not. As Draco had claimed earlier, love was a powerful emotion and she didn't know him well enough to say that she was in love with him. It was too difficult. She loved Ron, didn't she?  
  
That gave her something to think about as she waited for Draco to come up to bed. She saw Lucius sail off into the night around eleven, looking even more disgruntled than before. Hermione smiled faintly as she tried to picture the scene in her mind: Draco and Lucius arguing about whether or not Draco had the right to offer Hermione the chance to leave. She recalled the look on their faces when she had said she had to think about it. She imagined Draco was pretty convinced that she would be gone out the door before he even had a chance to finish his sentence.  
  
She waited impatiently for him to come upstairs, wondering if it was right that they still sleep in the same bed. Hermione had a lot to talk about him with and she also needed his honest, unbiased opinion. She soon heard footsteps on the stairs but instead of heading towards the bedroom, she heard them fade away in the opposite direction down the hallway. A door opened and shut quietly somewhere upstairs and Hermione knew instantly that he had gone to sleep in the guest room.  
  
Curling down under the warm covers, she shivered, not so much from the chill of the open window but more from the fact that when she needed Draco, he was so far away.  
  
Two days later, Hermione and Draco still hadn't spoken. They tried to avoid each other as much as possible and Hermione only left the bedroom when Draco was at work. He continued to sleep in the guest room, giving Hermione the space she had asked for.  
  
On Wednesday morning, she dressed quickly and ate a small breakfast before journeying out to Hogsmeade. She hadn't received replies from either Harry or Ron, so she assumed that they would be waiting for her at the Shrieking Shack, as she had asked. Upon entering the village, Hermione caught sight of Padma Patil, Parvati's twin sister, working in the Three Broomsticks. She considered going in for a quick drink but her watch told her it was a quarter to twelve and she had no time to waste. Draco would be home early that day and she was intent on talking to him.  
  
Hermione took a seat on the grass by the hill of the Shrieking Shack. She scanned the thin crowds that paced up and down the cobblestone streets for a familiar sight of the messy black hair or flaming red hair. She squinted into the sunlight (the first sunny day in what seemed like forever) to a pair walking down the street, rather lopsided. As they got closer, Hermione's eyes settled on the scar she had known for seven years. Jumping up from her spot, she dodged the people in the streets to throw her arms around the two of them together.  
  
"Whoa, Hermione!" Harry cried, smiling. "You're going to knock us over. Again."  
  
It was then that Hermione noticed both boys were covered in dirt as if they had been rolling around on the ground. "What happened?" she exclaimed.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. "Ron decided it would be fun to take the 'short route' to the village from his house. Needless to say, it wasn't the safest."  
  
"Those boulders weren't there before!" Ron insisted before beaming at Hermione. "How are you?" he asked tentatively.  
  
"Okay," she answered, wiping away a few stray tears. "Things have taken quite a turn."  
  
"You're pregnant," Harry stated and Hermione let out a half laugh, half sob.  
  
"No," she said. "Things are much worse than that."  
  
"Let's go get a drink and discuss things," Ron said quickly, eyeing the village around them. "Malfoy could be lurking anywhere and he'll kill us all if he sees us together."  
  
"Watch what you say, Ron," Harry said, grinning as they entered the Three Broomsticks. "Hermione's now a Malfoy, too."  
  
"That's just the trouble!" Hermione cried. "I'm not!"  
  
All around them the chatter continued while the boys sat in silence as Hermione sobbed. "And this is a bad thing, why?" Ron muttered. Harry shot him a dirty look and Ron immediately went up to get three Butterbeers.  
  
"What do you mean?" Harry asked gently, his hand on Hermione's shoulder. "You married Draco; therefore you are a Malfoy."  
  
Hermione shook her head miserably as Ron returned from the bar. "Draco told me a few nights ago that his father hired a fake minister to perform the ceremony. We're not really married."  
  
"That dirty slime!" Ron exploded but Hermione hushed him.  
  
"Draco had nothing to do with it. It was Lucius."  
  
"Big surprise there," Harry said, sitting back and taking a long drink from the mug in front of him. "Was there ever a time you doubted he wasn't really a jerk?"  
  
"Draco gave me a choice," Hermione continued. "I can leave or stay and really marry him." She had decided that morning to make things less complicated. If she chose to stay, she would marry him. It just seemed right that way.  
  
"Well, good, then!" Ron immediately looked more cheerful. "You can stay with us! Harry's already staying for now until he goes to live with Lupin for a while."  
  
Something deep in the back of Hermione's mind jolted. Lupin. Remus Lupin and Lily Evans. Dare she tell Harry about his mother's so-called betrayal to his father? Would it make a difference?  
  
"Mum surely won't mind," Ron continued, unaware of her hesitation. "Fred and George have included me in on the joke shop and we're moving it to a bigger venue, right here in Hogsmeade, actually. So there will be plenty of room at the house. What?" The look on Hermione's face had finally halted Ron's incessant chatter. "You do want to leave, don't you?"  
  
Harry had frozen in the middle of taking a drink of his Butterbeer. He stared at the two of his friend as Hermione slightly shook her head.  
  
"I don't know," she replied in a small, meek voice.  
  
"You don't know?" Ron roared incredulously. "How can you not know? You hate Malfoy! You hate everything his family stands for!"  
  
"Yes, but I've gotten to know him."  
  
"Oh, well that solves everything then!" Ron cried, standing up. "I suppose if I had gotten to know Jack the Ripper, then he would have been an alright guy, too! Well, congratulations Mrs. Future-Malfoy! I hope you get screwed again like you did this time!" With that, Ron turned and stormed out of the tavern, half its customers staring in wonder. Hermione pulled her cloak further over her head and groaned.  
  
"You can't really blame him," Harry said calmly. "For months now, all he's talked of is how great it would be if you left Malfoy and came to live with him. Then the opportunity is dangled right in front of his face and snatched away like a toy."  
  
"I didn't say I definitely wasn't leaving!" Hermione cried, throwing her hands up in the air. "I'm just not ready to make that decision yet." She studied Harry closely. "You understand, don't you?"  
  
Harry was quiet for several moments. "Hermione, I've had to make a lot of hard decisions in my life," he responded truthfully. "And I sometimes wonder if I could ever go back and change them. That's Fate for you; when you choose a path, it affects you for the rest of your life. I often wonder what would have happened had I chosen the other path."  
  
"What should I do?" she asked timidly.  
  
"I can't tell you what to do, Hermione," Harry told her, finishing off his Butterbeer. "But I will talk to Ron. He'll be okay after he settles down a bit."  
  
Hermione nodded. "Okay. Thanks, Harry, for everything."  
  
He smiled as he stood up. "No problem. Are you coming?"  
  
She shook her head smiling. "No. I'm going to sit here and think for a while."  
  
"It's loud in here, though."  
  
"Sometimes, if you want to get answers, you have to listen to several different voices at once."  
  
Harry winked at her and hugged her quickly. When he left, Hermione buried her face on the table in her arms and wept quietly. 


	7. Visitors

She didn't hear from Harry or Ron for several days after the Hogsmeade visit. During that time, she hadn't gotten a chance to speak to Draco, either. He had taken to not coming home at all, rather sleeping in his office at work.  
  
"It's insane!" she cried to Hilda as she opened the letter from Harry. They were sitting in the kitchen, Hermione straddling the chair, Hilda tidying up the counters. "He's acting like I don't exist! How does he expect me to chose this way when I never see him?"  
  
"Just because he's out of your sight, doesn't mean he's out of your heart," Hilda replied wisely and Hermione stopped scanning the letter.  
  
"What?"  
  
"My guess is if he figures you don't see him at all, it will make things easier for you. If you choose to stay and marry him, even after not seeing him for so long, then you truly do love him. If you leave, it won't matter to him anyway."  
  
Hermione considered this as she read Harry's letter to herself. He didn't say much, only that Ron wanted to tell her what he wanted to say to her back when he was in the hospital. "He'll send his own letter soon," Harry wrote. "I tried to talk to him but it didn't work all that well. Let's just say I wound up with a black eye because he kept waving his wand at me, emphasizing what he was saying."  
  
Hermione giggled, aware of the damage one's wand could do when being used carelessly. Hilda looked at her expectantly, waiting for the antidote to her laughter, but Hermione just shook her head.  
  
"Nothing," she muttered, folding the letter in half. "Well, my friends were no use. What now?"  
  
"Did it ever occur to you that your friends might not want to choose for you?" Hilda asked as Gemini entered the kitchen to grab some cleaning supplies. "Well, you've been friends for seven years, right?" Hilda asked.  
  
"Yeah. So?"  
  
"Maybe they both having feelings for you and don't want to give you a biased opinion."  
  
Hermione thought for a moment. Ron, she knew, did have feelings for her and she felt the same way at one point. But Harry? It didn't seem logical. She thought of the lasting way Harry had hugged her in the Three Broomsticks and the glances he snuck her way every so often. "No," she concluded. "Ron, maybe, but definitely not Harry."  
  
Hilda just shrugged and began scrubbing at a tough stain on the counter. "I don't know what these cooks of yours use to make that food, but it's definitely permanent."  
  
Draco finally returned home the following evening. He walked in the door, avoiding Hermione's eyes, and went straight upstairs to the guest bedroom. Hermione, who had been reading in the sitting room, followed him immediately.  
  
"Draco, open the door!" she called, knocking at the same time. When her requests went unanswered, she persisted. "Draco, we need to talk. Open up!" She knocked a few more times, then waited for an answer. It didn't feel right just opening the door and walking on so she knocked harder. "Draco, open the damn door!"  
  
Suddenly it swung open, revealing Draco. His hair was in disarray, flying in every direction. He had large, dark circles under his eyes that made him resemble a raccoon. His clothes were the only orderly thing about him, but even they were a little disorganized.  
  
"Have you reached your decision?" he asked pleasantly, his hand still on the door so she couldn't open it further. He appeared to even be leaning on it for support.  
  
"Not yet," she replied.  
  
"Then we have nothing to discuss," he said, just as politely, moving to close the door. But months of this experience taught Hermione a few things and she stuck her foot out to stop it.  
  
Looking like a tired old man, Draco leaned around to see what the problem was. "Will you please remove your foot from my room?" he asked her.  
  
"Nope." She shook her head. "We are going to talk. Now."  
  
"Hermione, I'm giving you the space you need," he said, his voice withered. "I don't know what else to do."  
  
"Talk to me."  
  
"Fine." He threw open the door and Hermione almost tumbled inside. When she regained her balance, she followed him around the room with her eyes.  
  
"I just have one question," she said, watching him pace the room in circles. "Do you know if my parents knew about the fake minister?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Is that you don't know, or they didn't know?"  
  
"They didn't know." Draco sighed and flopped down on the bed, which groaned under his weight. "Dad told me that your parents were completely clueless to the entire scam."  
  
Hermione felt as though a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders. So her parents didn't know; that was one less thing they had let her down on. "So why did your dad do it?"  
  
"I guess he was afraid your parents would change their minds if he didn't hurry."  
  
"What?" Hermione felt thoroughly confused.  
  
Draco looked at her as if realizing for the first time that she really was there. "The minister couldn't make it that early; that's why the wedding started off so many years after school finished. Then, your father began showing definite signs of not liking the idea. My father got scared and decided to move the wedding up, but when the minister couldn't make it, he panicked. So he paid some guy that he used to work with at the Ministry to play the part."  
  
"That's sick." Hermione immediately regretted the comment. "I'm sorry, Draco, but that's sick."  
  
"Why do you think I don't want to go back to live with him?"  
  
"Why don't you stay here?"  
  
Draco gave her a scathing look. "Right. I'm going to stay in a house that's too big for the two of us, plus housing crew. Why would I stay here if it's just going to be me?"  
  
Hermione nodded. "It makes sense. Even though my parents had no part in the scam, they've hurt me in enough ways to make me not want to go back there, either."  
  
"I know." Draco's face revealed that he was thinking of that afternoon when Hermione's parents came to visit and the family skeletons that spilled out.  
  
They looked at each other immensely before Hermione motioned to leave. "I've still got to think," she told him as she opened the door to leave. "I'll talk to you soon." And she ran back to her bedroom where she fell on the bed and cried.  
  
Hermione spent the rest of the entire night in her bedroom, crying quietly and sleeping on and off. When she awoke the next day, it was after noon. Slowly, she got out of bed, only to hear Gemini call from down the stairs, "Mrs. Malfoy, you have a visitor!"  
  
She quickly ran the brush through her hair and hurried downstairs, wincing at the sound of Gemini calling her, "Mrs. Malfoy." When she arrived at the bottom of the stairs, she was surprised to find Harry standing in the doorway.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she cried as she threw her arms around him. Pulling him away from her was Ron, grinning from ear to ear.  
  
"I made him come with me," he said as Hermione hugged him, too. "I wasn't coming alone in case Malfoy was here." His eyes travelled through the front foyer searching for any signs of the white-blond head.  
  
"He's working," Hermione told them. "So what are you two doing here?"  
  
"Ron wanted to apologize," Harry filled in for his friend, who was staring around the house in wonder. "He wanted to send that owl but never got around to it."  
  
"I'm just a little spacey," Ron admitted, finally coming back to the conversation. "Anyway, at the time, I just wanted to give you my best wishes for the marriage and everything." He tried hard to hide the glint in his eyes, but to no avail. "However, now, I wish to retract that statement from any further conversations, as the marriage didn't actually take place."  
  
Hermione smiled faintly, concerned with how Ron was going to react to the fact that if she had to choose right this second, she would choose to stay. She knew how it felt to dread going back to a house of parents you most definitely didn't want to see and she wanted to prevent Draco from having to do so. But on the other hand, she didn't want to live out the rest of her life as Mrs. Draco Malfoy. She had been that once, but now that the opportunity to change that had dropped into her life, she wasn't sure she wanted it to stay that way.  
  
"Would you guys like to come in?" she asked them, stepping back so they could get out of the foyer. "Come on, I'll give you a tour." She took them all through the house, including up the grand staircase for which Ron almost lost his teeth.  
  
"Close your mouth," Harry hissed at him as Gemini passed by, eyeing them warily.  
  
"I just can't help it," Ron claimed, running his hand along the smooth banister. "I've just never seen a place like this before. Hey!" he cried, a sudden idea coming into his head, "Hermione, have you ever slid down this thing?"  
  
"Sliding down the banister?" she repeated. "Not in the last few days."  
  
Harry laughed as Ron tried to climb over it and slide down the banister. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow," he repeated until he reached the bottom. He hurried back up the stairs and said, "Remind me to never to that again."  
  
The boys were still there when Draco arrived home from work. The three of them sat in the sitting room, chatting about old time, when Draco walked in. He glared at them, obviously unhappy to see them, but went upstairs without a word. Hermione could tell from the look on Ron's face that Ron had never truly forgiven Malfoy for his taunt, created in their fifth year, of "Weasley is our king" which unfortunately followed Ron throughout his remaining years at Hogwarts.  
  
"He was unusually quiet," Harry remarked as his eyes followed Draco up the stairs to make sure he stayed there.  
  
Hermione nodded. "He's 'giving me space' until I make my decision." The room suddenly got very quiet as the great clock above the mantle ticked away the minutes. Finally Hermione said, "Even if I do stay, I can do whatever I want." She drew herself up proudly. "Draco said I'm a free woman."  
  
Ron tried to smile but failed. Harry continued to look around the room in awe, his eyes bulging at the sights. Trying to change the subject, Hermione asked Harry if he had seen the Dursleys recently.  
  
"I went to visit them one day," he said, "just out of the goodness of my heart. But Dudley slammed the door in my face. I don't suppose the robes, wand and wizard's hat had anything to do with it."  
  
Hermione laughed loudly. She had the displeasure of meeting the youngest Dursley once before and was in no hurry to do so again. "Your aunt and uncle must have been furious."  
  
"Oh, they were!" Harry raved. "But they didn't contact me. Ever since the Order threatened them at the end of our fifth year, they've been a little more kind." He sighed.  
  
"By the way, Hermione, Dumbledore sends his best wishes." Harry's eyes gleamed at the sound of Dumbledore's name.  
  
"Does he know yet?" Hermione asked, referring to the sham marriage.  
  
Ron shook his head. "We didn't know if you wanted us to tell him or not."  
  
Hermione thought for a moment. "Might as well. Lucius will be trying to keep things quiet so we might as well anger him as much as we possibly can." She let out a weak laugh.  
  
"We had better get going," Harry said, standing up and looking at the clock. "We were supposed to be back at the Burrow ten minutes ago. Your mum will have our heads," he said turning to Ron.  
  
Ron stood up, too. "Right," he said. Awkwardly, he hugged Hermione, followed by Harry, who held Hermione tightly. Thoughts of what Hilda had said floated through Hermione's mind, but she pushed them away.  
  
"I'll see you two soon," she said just before she closed the door in the foyer. "Maybe sooner than you think." She leaned against the door. Their visit had put a lot into perspective for her. Everything around her was falling apart. The once-strict relationship with Draco was ending and suddenly she was free to do as she wished. All the things that were once tied up in a neat little package were unravelling quickly and she wasn't sure what to think of it all. 


	8. Home

The days passed quickly. Hermione and Draco saw less and less of each other. Draco had begun to spend the night at his partner Hobbs' place, leaving Hermione alone in the great mansion at night.  
  
A few times, Hermione considered calling on Parvati or Padma to spend the night with her, but the thought passed as quickly as it arrived. It was bound to get back to Lavender and Lavender would split a gut thinking that the marriage was really just a sham.  
  
One Thursday afternoon, Hermione received an owl carrying a letter bearing the Hogwarts crest. Quickly, she tore it open and read the familiar writing.  
  
"Dearest Hermione," she read aloud to herself. "I hope this letter finds you in good health. Most recently I received an owl from your parents, describing the actions of one Lucius Malfoy. Once I got over my own shock, I determined that you might not want to return home, for your mother is adamant on the decision that you should still marry Draco Malfoy.  
  
"Miss Granger, I am willing to offer you an internship at Hogwarts as an assistant to Professor Flitwick in Charms. The position is held for one year, but at the end of that year, we will evaluate the situation and decide on further action then. You are most welcome to stay at the castle, if you don't have prior plans made. If you are interested in this position, please reply to me as soon as possible.  
  
"Yours truly, Albus Dumbledore."  
  
Hermione's eyes actually welled up with tears upon reading the letter. It was as if Dumbledore could read her mind and determined her dilemmas and had dropped the perfect solution into her lap. She had decided during her few nights alone that she was entirely too young to get married. If she still felt as strongly for Draco in the future, maybe marriage would be an option. But not at the present time.  
  
Hermione's heart began to beat quickly. She didn't have to think on the proposal and immediately scrawled a note back to Dumbledore, accepting the position and thanking him repeatedly. She sent it back with the weary bird on which the letter had arrived and began preparing herself for a trip to the Ministry; it was time she told Draco.  
  
Hermione had only been to the Ministry of Magic once before and it was not an occasion she liked to dwell on. She hurried through the hallways of the magnificent building and quickly found the floor in which Magical Licences were obtained. She entered the office quietly, for fear of creating a stir.  
  
"Can I help you?" asked a cool voice. She spun around quickly and came face to face with a man, about four inches taller than her, with long black hair and dark eyes. He reminded her strongly of Sirius Black and Severus Snape, all mixed into one.  
  
"I'm looking for Draco Malfoy," she said, glancing at his nametag. "You're Hobbs!"  
  
He gave a short bow. "Rowan Hobbs, at your service. I think Draco's around here, somewhere in this mess." He began searching through the tiny office, filled to the brim with papers and other clutter. "Who are you, may I ask?" he queried as he searched.  
  
"Hermione-Malfoy," she replied, not able to remember if Hobbs knew of the marriage fiasco. He didn't take notice of her last name and continued to rifle under the papers. "Can I ask if you're looking for Draco? Because I'm fairly sure you won't find him in a pile of paperwork."  
  
Hobbs gave a short and hollow laugh. "No, no," he assured her. "I'm looking for the note he left me on where he was going." He continued to rifle as the door behind Hermione opened.  
  
"Hermione!" Draco's face came into view from behind her. "What are you doing here?" He looked almost fearful at the sight of her.  
  
"I have news," she told him and immediately he dropped the papers he was carrying on the desk.  
  
"I'll be back, Hobbs," he said, taking her by the hand and hurrying out of the office. Down the hall they went to a swinging door. Draco opened it to reveal a coffee room that was filled with cigarette smoke. "Want anything?" he asked.  
  
She shook her head and looked around. There were several round tables, each with three or four chairs, and a long counter with tall stools. On the counter sat five coffee pots, which seemed to be brewing on their own. Draco took a seat at the long counter and Hermione took the stool across from him. She struggled to get up on it, for it was easily higher than she would have liked.  
  
"So what's this news?" Draco poured himself a cup of coffee and began drinking it slowly. Hermione noted that he must have been nervous for he was drinking his coffee black and she knew he always liked it regular.  
  
"I've made my decision," she said, wincing and waiting for the explosion. But no such event happened. Draco continued to sip his coffee.  
  
"Who's it going to be?" he asked coolly. "The Weasleys or me?"  
  
She took a deep breath. "Neither." Her reaction caused Draco to choke on a mouthful of coffee and Hermione jumped up to pound him on the back. When he finished sputtering coffee bits on the counter, Hermione took her seat again and began wiping the counter with a napkin. "It's nothing against either of you. Dumbledore sent me an owl just a few hours ago, offering me an internship at the school as Professor Flitwick's assistant." She winced as the pain flashed across Draco's face. Reaching out to hold his hand, she assured him that it was not goodbye.  
  
"Maybe you should come back and be a Potions intern!" she suggested cheerfully.  
  
"Maybe I'll do that," Draco said unconvincingly. He was now looking down at his hands, clearly depressed. "Are you sure this is what you want to do?"  
  
"No." Hermione's answer surprised herself. "It's what I have to do." Draco looked up slowly. "I used to despise you, Draco. But then I saw that you weren't such a bad guy after all. And, like you said, I won't use the term 'love' but I do care deeply for you. But I'm just too young to get married."  
  
"We don't have to get married!" Draco cried, looking a little more positive. "You could just live with me!"  
  
That's when it occurred to Hermione. The whole thing made sense. Draco was lonely. He thought he wanted someone to spend his time with but on top of being scared at the prospect of being such a young husband, he was a little overwhelmed with living in such close quarters with another. After all, he had been an only child and was used to things going his way.  
  
"I'll still visit," she promised him, smiling. "This is in no way goodbye."  
  
Draco still looked miserable. "I told you, we don't have to get married. We could go on just being friends. Roommates!"  
  
"I can't," Hermione said sadly. "I just can't do that. I used to think nothing could bring me down; now I realize that everything has that potential. I need to be free for a while, just until I manage to get my feet on the ground. I need to find my place in the world and when I do, you'll be the first to know." She smiled sadly at him. "We'll still be friends, right?"  
  
"Right," he muttered back. "I guess."  
  
Two weeks later, Hermione was packed and ready to leave for Hogwarts. Draco offered to accompany her to the castle, but she shook her head. "It will just be harder for the two of us," she told him and he knew, deep down inside, that she was right. So she left him in the foyer of their short- time mansion home, with a soft kiss on the lips before she started the second journey of her new life.  
  
The real reason Hermione didn't want Draco to accompany her to the castle was because she had a quick stop to make first. She had written Harry and Ron recently to tell them of her internship and promised that she would visit them before leaving for the castle. She boarded the carriage that took her to the Burrow and exited it hours later with trepidation. How would the boys respond to her going back to Hogwarts without them?  
  
Mrs. Weasley answered the door and hugged Hermione in a greeting. "It's so nice to see you," she told her, closing the door behind them.  
  
"I really can't stay long," Hermione began but Mrs. Weasley interrupted her.  
  
"I know. Ron told me all about your new job! That's so exciting!" Mrs. Weasley's face was absolutely bursting with pride and happiness "The boys are upstairs. Harry's packing."  
  
"Packing?"  
  
"Yes, dear, didn't he tell you? He's going to live with Remus for a few months."  
  
"Oh, right." Something stirred in Hermione's memory of Ron or Harry mentioning that to her before. "It seemed like years ago," she thought to herself as she climbed the creaky old staircase. She could hear Harry arguing with someone, or something, as soon as she stepped on to the second landing.  
  
"Give me that! I know, I know, but I'll be back. Just give me that!" Hermione knocked tentatively on the door and heard Harry grunt, "Come in." As soon as he saw her, however, his face broke into a grin. "Hermione! Come on in! So good to see you again."  
  
"Hi, Harry," she said, hugging him. "Who were you arguing with?"  
  
Harry gestured to the ancient dresser that stood in the corner. "This old thing. It doesn't want me to leave. I keep telling it I'm not going for good and I will still come back to visit, but it doesn't want to let my clothes go."  
  
Hermione smiled faintly, thinking how the dresser represented Draco and his emotions towards her. "Where's Ron?" she asked.  
  
Harry had begun to argue with the dresser again. "In his room," he grunted, kicking the old wood. "Stupid thing."  
  
Hermione left him to fight with the dresser and headed down the hall to Ron's room. She knocked softly on the door and heard Ron's invitation to enter. As she did, she looked around. His room had changed a lot since she had been in it last. Graduation photos were placed on the wall, with Ron, Harry and Hermione smiling at her and waving. There were also photos that Colin Creevey had taken over the years posted beside them. Hermione smiled as she recollected the memories.  
  
"Hermione!" Ron sat up from his bed and tapped the spot beside him. "Glad you're here! Look at what I found!" He held out a book and Hermione began flipping through it. It was the verbal time capsule they had created in their second year. Her smile grew as she continued to glance through it.  
  
"This is old," she told him. "It seems like forever ago that we created it."  
  
"Yeah." Ron sighed and took the book back. "Memories, you know? They last a lifetime."  
  
"That they do."  
  
The two of them sat in silence for a few moments, nothing to be said. Nothing had to be said for their silence spoke it all. "It's not goodbye," Hermione finally said. "I'll still see you."  
  
"Oh, I know," Ron replied, looking up quickly. "Actually, Dumbledore invited Harry, Lupin and I to visit in a few weeks. Maybe we'll even sit in on one of your Charms lessons."  
  
Hermione smiled, trying to cover up her misty eyes. "It won't be the same," she said, before breaking into tears.  
  
Ron stared at her, completely unsure of how to respond. He patted her back awkwardly, murmuring words of comfort. Just as quickly as the tears began, they ended. "Well, we'll always have the memories, right?" Ron said.  
  
"Right," Hermione said, smiling through her tears. "Memories." Slowly she leaned forward and kissed Ron on the cheek. "I'll see you soon," she told him.  
  
"Hopefully," Ron responded, holding the cheek that she had kissed. She left his room then, closing the door behind her softly, always wanting to remember things the way they were. She trudged back to Harry's room for a quick goodbye.  
  
When she entered however, she was faced with a very confused and upset Harry. He turned her way and held up a torn sweater. His glasses were crooked and his hair was messier than before. Hermione burst out laughing and crying all at once. A sobbing mess, she fell into Harry's arms.  
  
"I'm going to miss you guys," she sobbed while Harry patted her back comfortingly.  
  
"We'll miss you, too," he said, "but we'll also see you in a few weeks, hopefully. Dumbledore invited us back."  
  
"Ron told me," she said, sitting up straight and sniffling. "It's not so much that I'm leaving for Hogwarts that makes me upset," she confessed. "It's more of the fact that I'm going there without you guys! I'm going to see other people around, joking and laughing with their friends and I don't know how I'll react."  
  
"You'll be just fine," Harry assured her.  
  
"Oh! Before I forget." Hermione began to dig in her book bag that she carried with her. She pulled out the three books and handed them to Harry, who looked confused.  
  
"What are these?"  
  
"Your mother's diaries." Hermione wiped her nose with the tissue Harry had provided her with. "Remember? You lent them to me back when we were in school?"  
  
"Right," Harry said, the memory dawning on him. "That's right. Did you read them?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And?"  
  
"You're going to stay with Lupin, right?"  
  
"Yeah." Harry nodded.  
  
Hermione grinned. "Then you might not want to read them right away."  
  
Back downstairs, Hermione hugged everyone goodbye and climbed back into the carriage. As it pulled away from the Burrow, Hermione watched as their waving figures became smaller and smaller. When she faced forward again, she was reminded of Lily Evans. She gave up her love for what was truly right for her. And here was Hermione, many years later, doing the same thing. She was leaving behind Ron and Harry, her best friends in the world, and Draco Malfoy, the husband she had for a short period of time, to go back to the world that she loved so dearly. A world that taught her everything she knew. A world that would hopefully carry out seven years worth of fun for the other students as it did for Hermione, Ron and Harry. She grinned as the carriage carried her forth. She was going home.  
  
A/N: I'm thinking of writing an Epilogue when Harry and Ron visit Hogwarts. What do you think? 


End file.
